Why do You Fear the Darkness?
by RosieG.9012
Summary: How did six of Radiant Garden's best and brightest become the leading members of Organization XIII? This story tells of their tragic fall from grace, and their easily broken bonds of trust.
1. Chapter 1: Arrival

Author's Note: Hey there, folks. Welcome, one and everyone, to my first fan fic "Why do you Fear the Darkness?". This fic is about how the first six members of Organization XIII, Ansem's six apprentices, became the Nobodies we all know and love (?) today. I hope you'll like it. But, before we begin, I just wanted to mention that in this fic, I used the first six organization members' "real" names, as in their names before they became Nobodies. So that you won't get confused about which name goes with which member, here's a guide in the order in which they appear:

Ienzo is Zexion

Even is Vexen

Braig is Xigbar

Elaeus is Lexaeus

Dilan is Xaldin

Xehanort is Xemnas

Thank you for reading!

Edit: I went through and fixed some typos, repeated words, and inconsistencies regarding place names, ages and the like. Just thought I'd let you know! Happy reading!

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Why do you Fear the Darkness?

Chapter 1

Arrival

**10:30 PM, Hollow Bastion Castle, May 26, 12 years BKH I (before Kingdom Hearts I)**

Lightning cut across the night sky over Castle Radiant Garden, illuminating the castle as well as the sleeping village. Rain pounded against roofs, bounced off windows, and caused a cacophony of noise.

But Ansem the Wise, ruler of the Radiant Garden, didn't notice any of this. He was in his study, at his desk, his head in his arms. He snored gently, lazily moving a hand to wipe his long yellow hair out of his face.

The study was in a round room with a high ceiling, small, but cozy. Charts, reports and other pieces of paper were pinned to the walls, littering the floor, and cluttering Ansem's desk. The study was a billboard example of intellectual disarray.

BOOM! Another flash of lightning and a clap of thunder so loud it sounded like a full-scale explosion. Ansem's eyes snapped open.

"Hmm…?" he muttered, still half asleep.

His gaze turned towards the window. Ah. It was raining. That made sense.

He yawned, stretched and brushed his hair out of his face. Ansem was a handsome man at sixty, tall and fit, with a long, clever face and, to the shock of many, bright red eyes. His hair hadn't even begun to gray yet. His lined face and wise aura were the only things that indicated his true age. He wore a white lab coat, indicating that he was a scientist.

He reached down and picked up one of the papers on his desk. It was a report he'd been writing, just before he'd fallen asleep. It was crumpled from having been slept on.

Ansem sighed.

"Fell asleep again, Master?"

Ansem turned. A young boy stood in the doorway, surveying him with an unreadable expression on his pinched, pale face. The boy had dark brown hair, long enough to tie in a ponytail, and dark eyes and brows to match.

"Ah," Ansem sat up. "Ienzo, it's you. Do you need something?"

The boy shook his head. At only thirteen years old, he was Ansem's youngest apprentice, and perhaps the most intelligent. He often liked to spend time with his master, discussing every scientific topic under the sun. Ansem assumed that this was one of those times.

Ienzo walked over and plopped himself down into the chair across from Ansem.

"The others are out," the boy explained. "So I came here."

Ansem picked up a pen and twiddled it thoughtfully between two of his fingers. The report had an ink stain on it, he observed. He sighed again. Just wonderful.

"Did…" he tried to rub off the ink as he talked, and only managed to spread it, "Did Elaeus go too? I thought you two were inseparable."

Ienzo watched Ansem efforts to clean the paper.

"Are you sure you don't want some white-out, master?" he asked. "It might help, you know."

Ansem waved the offer away.

"No, no, it's fine. Nothing a little cleaning won't get off."

Ienzo looked skeptical, but he didn't pursue the subject.

"To answer your question," Ienzo said, "Elaeus and the others went to some club." He crossed his arms and slumped down in his seat. "Some stupid club down in the village. No one under the age of eighteen allowed. Not that I care…"

The corners of Ansem's mouth curled. Poor Ienzo. He would never admit it, but he didn't like being the only child out of five grown apprentices.

"Don't worry, Ienzo," he dabbed at the smeared ink with a tissue. "Elaeus is just excited about being an adult. Soon he'll realize…" the ink on the paper smeared. "Blast! Soon he'll realize that being an adult isn't all fun and games, that your friends are important too. Confound it!"

In his efforts to wipe off the ink, he had upturned the entire ink jar onto the report, and it was now spreading across the surface of his desk. Ienzo jumped to his feet in case the ink came his way, as Ansem did the same.

"Confound it!" Ansem yelled again. All his reports would be ruined at this rate.

"I'll get the white-out, Master!" Ienzo yelled, running for the cabinet where it was kept.

"No, no," said Ansem quickly, looking at his desk sadly. "It's too late, the report's ruined. Get some cleaning rags. They're on the other shelf."

Heading for the shelf by the window, Ienzo changed direction mid run. Ansem put his head in his hand. An entire report … ruined. It hardly beared thinking about. He'd be up all night rewriting it, not to mention that he wouldn't have the use of his desk until it was cleaned up. That could take time.

'I hate being overworked,' he thought. 'It makes me so tired and irritable.'

"Ienzo!" he said aloud. "Hurry up with those cleaning rags!"

Ienzo had stopped, dead in his tracks, staring out the window. The rags hung limply in his hand.

Ansem walked over, more than a little concerned about his apprentice's odd behavior.

"What's wrong?"

The boy didn't answer. Instead, he pointed out the window.

Ansem followed his direction. He had to squint through the rain and trees outside his window. At first he didn't see anything. It was much too dark. He knew what usually lay just outside. Radiant Garden castle was right in the middle of the Great Maw, a wide, grassy plain surrounded by a long path, the Ravine Trail. Because of the chances of flooding, the plain was usually deserted during storms such as these.

Thunder rumbled, a flash of lightning illuminated the sky, and for a split second, Ansem could see what Ienzo had seen.

Someone, a person, though they were too far away to be seen clearly, was walking towards the castle.

"Oh, my…" said Ansem faintly.

The lightning passed. Darkness fell again. Ansem turned to Ienzo.

"Ienzo," he said slowly. "Go and get the guards… and Krista too."

Ienzo hesitated a moment, than headed off to do as his master bid. The last thing he saw as he left was his master, gazing off into the distance.

**10:30 PM, The Great Maw, May 26**

The first thing he remembered was walking, walking miles and miles. Or was it miles? He couldn't tell. He didn't know where he was going. He didn't really care. He only knew that he couldn't stop. He _mustn't _stop; to stop would mean death, or worse.

So he kept on. So weak that he didn't even register the people or places he passed, or whether he passed anything at all. His throat was parched; his stomach had stopped growling long ago, as if too tired to continue. His legs would surely break from the long trek. But even as he noticed the pain, there was still that will, that drive, to keep going.

He wondered vaguely, subconsciously, where he had come from. He wasn't sure. He wasn't sure of anything. He didn't even have a name to call himself.

Time passed, what seemed like forever to him, before he saw anything. Far across from where he stood, at the end of the plain, was an enormous building. An enormous building with many towers and windows. He knew it was a castle, though how he knew he wasn't sure.

His heart lightened. He was close. He knew that that castle was where his journey would end, at last. Despite his exhaustion, he began to run, his matted and dirty hair billowing out behind him, his cloak spreading like wings.

The rain started before he was halfway to his goal, and he was forced to slow his pace. The castle, he realized, was much farther away than it looked.

Great drops of rain plopped down upon his head, first lightly, then steadily harder. Lightning flashed and thunder rumbled above him. He was drenched in seconds.

He was shivering. He hugged his wet clothes to his body and pressed on.

"I can't stop," he said to himself, his voice cracked from disuse. He clenched a fist. "I can't stop."

He trudged, slipping and sliding through the mud, stumbling over clumps of grass, leaning on trees for support. Despite his resolve, he could barely bring himself to put one foot in front of the other. He gasped as a blast of cold wind tore through him.

"Not much… farther," he panted.

"Halt!"

Noticing for the first time that there were people in his path, he was surprised into stopping. They all wore cloaks, cloaks that seemed looked much thicker and warmer than his. He couldn't see their faces. The man who had asked him to stop held a lantern.

He took this all in, then started to walk again. He didn't care that he was walking into the group of people.

The lantern-man seemed scared. He turned to his companions, than addressed the walker again.

"Halt!" he yelled. "Halt in the name of King Ansem the Wise! We are soldiers of the king! Halt, I said!"

Arms grabbed the walker by the shoulders. He struggled, kicked, screamed.

"Let me go!" he yelled, fighting with all his might. "Let me go! I have to get to the castle! I have to—,"

One of the soldiers knocked him to the ground. He hit the grass and mud with a slap and lay there as if stunned. Tears began to stream from his eyes, but it was not because of the blood running from his mouth. It was because, now that he was on the ground, he was too weary to get up.

"Leave him alone!" A croaky voice yelled at the soldiers. The man on the ground couldn't see who it was, but by her voice he could tell it was an elderly woman.

"Leave him alone!" She yelled again. "This man is obviously ill; leave him be!"

The man on the ground felt his consciousness begin to slip away. He reached out a hand, as if he could pull himself up, only for the hand to fall limply to the ground.

"I need to…" he said. "I need to keep going…"

Then his eyes shut.

**10:30 PM, Radiant Garden Town, not far from Rising Falls, May 26**

"Hey, Even! Catch!"

The tall, brunette youth turned just in time to spot a water balloon flying at his head. He gaped, balked, than came to his senses enough to duck. As a result, he almost fell face-down on the cobblestones. The water balloon burst harmlessly just behind him.

Shouts of laughter sounded in Even's ears. He clenched his teeth, got gingerly to his feet, and turned to face the older man who was laughing to the point of hysterics behind him.

"That wasn't funny, Braig," he said calmly, flicking a speck of dust from his gray cloak. It was already sodden from the rain, and now it was dirty from the cobblestones.

Braig, a tall man in his mid-thirties, just laughed harder. He had a hard, haggard face, decorated by a long, jagged scar on his left cheek; the result of an accident in his youth. He had lost his right eye in the same accident, and the socket was covered by an eyepatch. His hair was dark brown, but beginning to show streaks of gray. He wore it long and braided. Despite his fearsome appearance, he was immature. Very immature.

Unlike Even. Even was Braig's opposite in every way. His light brown hair was always neat and clean, and his white, sun starved skin shone. He was almost always calm, and he was something of a leader among Ansem's five apprentices.

"Come on, Even," said deep-voiced Elaeus, coming over and putting an arm around him. "It _was_ pretty funny; you should have seen your face!"

Even grumbled and shrugged off the younger man's arm. Elaeus, in his usual fashion, didn't seem to mind. He was a big, burly young man with bulging muscles and a knack for athletics. His hair was frizzy and red, cut close to his scalp, and he was sprouting sideburns. Despite his size, Elaeus was known for being non-confrontational.

Even addressed Braig.

"Where did you even get water balloons, Braig?" Even asked icily. "It's raining."

"Aw, come on, man," Braig protested. "I was just havin' some fun."

"I wouldn't call throwing water balloons in May "fun," would you Dilan?"

Even addressed the fourth man in the group, who was standing off to the side, seeming not to acknowledge the discussion at all. Dilan was taller than his friends, and his black hair hung very long. It was tied in a ponytail behind his head.

"Dilan?" Even said again when his friend didn't acknowledge him. "Dilan?"

Dilan started and turned around.

"Oh, sorry," he said quickly. "I wasn't listening. What is it?"

Even shook his head. Dilan had been distracted like this all night

"Oh, I suppose it doesn't matter," Even said with a sigh. "It's about time we headed home anyway."

He turned toward the direction of the Upward Falls, the other following along behind him. Braig ran up beside him.

"Aw, Even…" he whined. "Why do we hafta to go back to the castle? The night's still young! We haven't done anything _fun_ yet."

"In case you didn't notice," Even said, his voice dripping with annoyance. "Every business in town is closed."

Elaeus sighed behind them.

"Yeah. I guess we picked a bad night to go out."

"So disappointing," said Dilan absently.

Even privately agreed. He still hated to think that they had walked all the way from the castle, in the rain, only to find the whole town closed.

"So," Elaeus said. "Why _is _everything closed?"

"Why else?" replied Dilan. "Floods."

"Yes," Even said. "I heard the alert is particularly high tonight. The shop owners want to be out of the way in case something happens."

"Hmph," mumbled Braig. "Way to ruin our fun."

"The world doesn't revolve around _you,_ Braig," Even said through gritted teeth. Braig was really beginning to grate on his nerves. Not that Braig didn't always grate his nerves, but today was especially bad.

"Probably because he missed his hourly drink," Even though scathingly.

"Hey," Elaeus said quickly, with the air of someone trying to divert an argument. "Would you look at that, we're here."

The four apprentices stopped. Sure enough, the bridge that crossed Rising Falls lay before them.

True to its name, Rising Falls wasn't your average waterfall; it fell up as opposed to down, disappearing mysteriously as it reached the top of the cliff. It flowed from a deep chasm of clear water in the lake below the bridge. The water from the lake was the castle's power source.

The apprentices crossed the stone bridge. The crossing always unnerved Even a bit. He was afraid of heights, and the upward flowing water made him dizzy. He was glad when they reached the stone archway on the other side.

Here, they boarded an open-air elevator, which carried them across the Great Maw, miles below, and to the castle, some way off.

As the elevator neared its destination, they sensed that something was wrong. For one thing, their master, Ansem, could be seen waiting for them at the front door, and he didn't look happy. He wore a grim expression on his face. Ienzo stood beside him, looking worried. Ienzo rarely showed his feelings.

"Do you think we're in trouble?" Elaeus whispered nervously.

"For goodness' sake, Elaeus," Said Even, exasperated. "We're not children."

Dilan squinted.

"Hmm … he doesn't look angry," Dilan observed. "More like… pensive."

"Nice word …" said Braig, trying, and failing, to lighten the mood.

The elevator glided to a stop. The four apprentices piled off of it and onto the rain-slick marble path. The path wound around the front of the castle. The front doors were just off to the right. The apprentices looked at each other, than headed over to where Ansem and Ienzo stood waiting.

"Master," said Even, taking the lead as he always did around Ansem. "Master, is something wrong?"

"Is everyone alright?" Dilan asked, uncharacteristically nervous.

"Yes, yes," said Ansem distractedly. "Don't worry. We're all fine, but something has happened. Come inside, boys, you must be freezing."

Ansem turned and pushed against the doors. As if in answer, the great oak doors creaked open to allow them in. Ansem strode inside, the five apprentices filing in behind him.

As usual, the warm, cavernous entrance hall was filled with servants, bustling back and forth and to and fro, doing whatever servants do. A few came forward to take the "young masters'" wet cloaks and store them away. Even was dismayed to see that a stream of water had dripped down his white shirt. Elaeus heard him mutter "water balloons" and something a bit less polite.

Without a word, their master turned and gestured for them to follow him up the staircase. The apprentices followed him up the stairs and past a small, red-headed girl sitting on the bottom step. Elaeus winked at her. She grinned.

Ansem led them through a side door and into a long hallway. He stopped and turned to face his apprentices.

"I wanted to talk somewhere private," he said. "The household is in enough of an uproar as it is."

"What's going on, Master?" Even asked.

"That's what I'm about to tell you," he cleared his throat. "Ienzo and I, well, Ienzo really," he smiled at the young apprentice, "spotted a man in the Great Maw."

"So?" said Braig, examining his nails. "What's the big deal?"

Even glared at Braig. Ansem simply nodded his head as if Braig hadn't been rude.

"It's a 'big deal' because this man is not from around here. He doesn't look like a local, he looks like a foreigner, and he is very badly injured, as if he walked a very long way."

Now the apprentices were interested. Elaeus looked at Ienzo, who nodded as if to confirm that this was true.

"But," said Dilan. "Where could he have come from? Our world is not very large. This castle, the town and the surrounding areas are the only things on it."

"Do you think he's from another world?" Elaeus asked, his voice shaking with excitement.

"I don't know," said Ansem. "I suppose it's possible, but it would be odd. We're not even sure if there are other worlds out there, and if there are, the paths that connect them closed long ago."

"Where is the man now?" Ienzo asked softly, barely audibly, but Ansem heard him.

"He's being cared for by the healer as we speak."

"Can we go see him, Master?" asked Even. "I'd be very interested in meeting him."

"That's another thing I planned to talk to you about," said Ansem. "No. You may not see him. Not until he is well."

"But… Master!" Ienzo protested.

"He's very ill," Ansem said firmly. "The last thing he needs is people popping in, waking him up and asking him a lot of questions."

"But …"

"I'm afraid that is my final word on the matter."

Ansem turned.

"You may see him when he is better. I'm about to go check on him, I will let you know his condition later on. For now, I suggest you boys get some rest."

He headed off in the direction of the infirmary.

The apprentices knew it would be no use arguing further with their master, and, disheartened, dispersed for their individual rooms. Only Ienzo and Elaeus stayed behind.

"Hey," said Ienzo. "You going to bed?"

Elaeus walked over. He could tell from the tone in his friend's voice that he was up to something.

"Now, Ezo," Said Elaeus, using Ienzo's nickname. "You aren't planning to sneak out to the infirmary after Master leaves to see the patient, are you?"

Ienzo glared at him.

"What do you take me for?" he asked. "Of _course _I plan to go see the patient. Would you like to come?"

Elaeus grinned.

"Fine, fine," he said with a sigh. "I'll come, but only so you won't be alone when we get caught."

"We're _not_ going to get caught."

The two friends headed off towards the way their master had left.

"So," said Elaeus when they were some way down the hall. "You found the guy first. That's pretty impressive. Did you see him up close?"

"No," said Ienzo, heaving a sigh. "I saw him from the window. He looked like a little speck."

Elaeus ruffled his hair.

"Hey!" yelled Ienzo. "Careful!"

"Sorry, Ezo."

The younger boy smoothed his hair back into place.

"And stop calling me 'Ezo' -- you want me to start calling you 'Elly' again?"

Elaeus laughed. Ienzo couldn't help laughing a little bit too.

"But anyway," Elaeus went on. "About this guy, do you know what he's like at all?"

"Well …" he thought a moment. "According to the soldiers who found him, he's totally insane. He acted crazy when the soldiers tried to bring him in, fighting and screaming nonsense …"

"What does Krista say?"

"I haven't talked to her yet," Ienzo sighed. "She whisked the guy off to the infirmary before I could. The guy had passed out outside."

"Too bad."

"Too bad indeed," Said Ansem

The friends jumped, they looked at each other.

"Should we run?" Elaeus' expression said.

Ienzo shook his head.

"No point," his face clearly said.

"Hello, boys."

Ansem stepped out from around the corner. Ienzo cursed himself for not thinking to listen for his master.

"Having a little night-time stroll, are we?" he asked, circling them.

The friends looked at each other. They looked at Ansem.

"Maybe," they said in unison.

"You weren't trying …" Ansem began "You weren't trying to got see the patient, were you?"

They looked at each other. They looked at Ansem.

"Maybe."

"The jig is up boys," Ansem chuckled. "Go to bed."

He headed down the hall again.

"Oh, and I'm going to have guards patrol this corridor, so don't think of trying this again."

The friends groaned.

"Oh, well," said Elaeus when their master was gone. "Don't worry, Ezo. We'll see the guy eventually.

"I guess…"

Elaeus yawned.

"Anyway … I'm gonna head to bed," he turned and walked the opposite direction. "See ya tomorrow."

"Bye."

Ienzo stood by himself a moment, his arms crossed in front of him, thinking. Than he turned and headed for the library.

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So, there's the first chapter. Expect the next chapter up this time next week. Please review. Let me know if there are any typos. Oh, and no flaming, please. Try to make the reviews constructive. Thanks! 


	2. Chapter 2: Awakening

Yes! Here's the second chapter. Sorry it took me so long to post it. I meant to post it yesterday (Thursday) but there was a stupid error with my account that wouldn't let me upload documents. Hopefully it won't happen again, but it probably will, so be prepared for more delays as a result (sigh). Sorry. Enjoy.

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Chapter 2

Awakening

Ansem quickened his pace as he headed to the infirmary. Though he hadn't shown it in the presence of his apprentices, he was so excited he could barely contain himself. A person from another world! How long had he waited for something like this?

"Slow down, Ansem," he thought. "You don't know that the patient is actually from another world. It's a possibility, but it's not a fact."

He grinned. But it certainly was exciting.

For the past several months, Ansem and his apprentices had been studying the concept of other worlds. Ansem wasn't sure why he studied this; it wasn't as if this kind of research would help his people. Perhaps he did it as much out of boredom as anything.

Ansem had spent much of his rule helping to improve and protect the Radiant Garden. In fact, he had spent so much time on this, that his kingdom was now a veritable paradise. No enemies threatened them. The problem of natural disasters, flooding in particular, had been ingeniously dealt with by turning parts of the stream into the castle's power source. Above all, Ansem was beloved by his subjects. He gave them his respect, he listened to their concerns, and in return they respected him. Ansem knew that he should be happy. And yet… he was not satisfied.

Ansem knew he was being selfish, but he was bored. What else could he do for his people but continue to rule them? He missed the big, idealistic projects of his youth. He missed the research he had once done. So, he had begun to study other worlds.

The idea of other worlds had long been the subject of legends and folklore among the people of Radiant Garden. It was said that the world had once contained many different lands, many different people, but for reasons that varied from tale to tale, the lands had broken apart, each becoming small worlds of their own. The worlds were now divided by time and space, by unknown barriers that were impossible to cross.

It was difficult to tell if these legends were true. Certainly the world inhabited by the people of the Radiant Garden was a very small piece of land. As far as anyone knew, if you started walking straight from anywhere in Radiant Garden, you would find yourself back where you had started in a day or so, without ever encountering another living soul. It seemed strange that an entire world could be that small.

But, on the other hand, there was no way to prove that other worlds existed. If the other worlds did exist, there was no way to get to them. No one had yet found a way to invent a machine that could fly to the stars, for space was surely where the other worlds could be found.

"But," thought Ansem sadly. "Even if you could reach the stars, the worlds are separated and blocked from each other. It would be hopeless."

He paused as he passed an open window, and stared up at the night sky. It was clear now, and the stars shone brightly. So many stars… could each star be its own world? Perhaps this stranger really was the answer, the answer to everything. He sighed. He certainly hoped so.

Before Ansem knew it, he was before the infirmary. Despite the size of the castle, the door was small. Ansem had to crouch to enter. He opened the door and peeked inside.

The entrance room of the infirmary was small and earthy brown, for that was the way Krista the healing woman liked it. The walls were paneled wood, and a work desk littered with roots and herbs sat in the corner. A white curtain covered the area where the patients slept.

"Krista?" said Ansem whispered. He didn't want to wake any patients who could be sleeping in the other room. "Krista? Are you there?"

In answer, the curtain rustled, and a hunched old woman came out from behind it. Her face was wrinkled from the years, and her hair, tied in a bun, was gray with streaks of white. She smiled at Ansem, and her bright green eyes danced.

"Come in, your Majesty," she said pleasantly. "Here to see the patient? I was just about to make some medicine, but you may come in anyway."

Ansem stepped around the door and closed it behind him.

"How is the patient?" he asked anxiously.

"In surprisingly good shape."

She walked to her desk in the corner and picked up a mortar and pestle. She began to grind the contents as she talked.

"He's severely dehydrated, very hungry, and weak, but not much worse off than that. I had to get him some new clothes, his old ones were soaked, and he needs a bath, but I'm surprised he doesn't have a chill. He was out in that storm, after all…"

Krista finished her work and spooned a thick paste from the mortar and into a small envelope. She sealed it tight.

"But he's woken up?" Ansem asked. "I'd like to talk to him."

"No, I'm afraid not. He hasn't woken up yet."

Krista walked over and thrust the envelope into Ansem's hands. He stared.

"Krista, what…?"

"Put this in your water or tea before bedtime," she said, interrupting him. "and you will sleep peacefully the whole night long. I often give it to my little granddaughter when she's ill. It works like a charm."

"But… but I don't need…"

"Take it," the old woman said firmly. "I hear you've been staying up nights."

"I've been staying up because I'm working…" he muttered.

Even as he said it, he knew there was no use arguing with Krista. No matter how old he was, she would always treat him like a child. He pocketed the envelope with a quick thank you.

"Krista," he said. "Can I _please_ see the patient now?"

A hint of a whine crept into his voice. He groaned inwardly. Now he really was acting like a child.

"You may see him," Krista replied, "but, please, don't try to wake him. He needs to rest."

"Fine," Ansem said with a nod. "Lead on."

"This way."

To Ansem's surprise, she led him not to the white curtain, but to another curtain across from it. She pulled this back to reveal a small alcove, containing only a nightstand, a chair, and a bed occupied by a sleeping young man.

Ansem stepped into the room. He stared at the man, and could immediately see that he was not like the people of Radiant Garden. For one thing, his skin was tanned a light, almost reddish brown, and his hair, despite his young age, was white as newly fallen snow.

Despite this oddness, he looked like any man. He had a handsome face, his features were broad, and he didn't look a day over twenty-one. Only his head could be seen above the quilts on his bed, but the blankets were twisted around his body, as if he was curled into a ball. His brow was furrowed in his sleep, as if his dreams were not pleasant ones. He gave a soft moan.

"Sit there," said Krista, pointing to the chair.

Ansem jumped.

"Yes, yes," he muttered. "Of course."

He sat, scooting the chair closer to the bed. His heart was pounding with excitement. This youth was from another world. He had to be from another world. If only he would wake up… Ansem had so much to ask him.

The man in the bed gave another moan, startling Ansem. It was louder than the last one. Ansem looked up. The man's right hand was clutching the bedclothes in fear, while his left waved in front of his face, trying to fend off an unknown attacker.

"Krista?" said Ansem.

She wasn't there; she had already gone back to the other room.

Ansem looked back at the man, who was moaning louder, his actions becoming more violent. Ansem felt a pang of anxiety. Should he get Krista?

The man moaned again, a sob escaped his throat.

Stranger though the man was, Ansem felt a pang of sympathy in his heart. Before he could reconsider, he reached out and lowered the man's flailing arm onto the bed. He patted it awkwardly.

"Um…" he said. What would Krista say to calm a patient down?

"Um… there, there…" he said awkwardly. "D… don't worry… it's alright."

To the king's surprise, the man seemed to relax. His moaning subsided. Ansem breathed a sigh of relief.

He studied the man again, and realized, as if for the first time, how young the man was. Young enough to be his son, really. The idea surprised him, but he smiled a little sadly. He had never had a son.

Ansem sat back in his chair thoughtfully.

"It's going to be alright," he whispered again.

For a moment, Ansem thought he saw the youth smile.

ooo

_He was in darkness, a blackness so thick; he thought he would never see light again. Had he _ever_ seen light? It felt as if he had been there an eternity._

_He would have been completely blind and deaf had it not been for the images, colors and sounds that drifted lazily through his brain. Light, shadow, people he didn't think he knew, but might have known once, keys, keyholes, fluttering birds…_

_A voice spoke to him. Booming, ringing in his ears, reverberating against the blackness like the beating of a drum. He couldn't make out what it said, but he wanted it to stop, to leave him alone._

_He cried out in frustration, but he had no voice. As he tried to cover his ears, he realized that he had no body. He was nothing. Part of the blackness. Darkness itself. Nothing. Nobody. He felt as if he was drowning in cold panic, and he couldn't do anything about it._

_Suddenly, a new voice, calling him. Something brushed against his arm. His arm. He had an arm._

_The blackness was swirling around him. He was hurled forward, falling incredibly fast, his heart pounding…_

His eyes flew open. He sat bolt upright, breathing hard.

ooo

At first, the man in the bed couldn't see anything. The lamp beside his bed blinded him. He blinked, shading his eyes from the fierce light. At last, his vision cleared, and he could see that he was in a small white room. A curtain covered the doorway, and he was sitting up in a warm bed. He tossed his hair out of his face. It was messy and matted.

He looked to his left, and was surprised to find a person there, an old man, specifically. He was sitting in a chair, his head lolling against his chest, snoring gently. The young man found himself grinning. It was funny. Humor was new to him.

His gaze drifted over to a window. The sun was shining, and he could see green trees. Such beautiful trees. The smile stayed on his face. It had been a long time since he had been happy.

"So, you're awake."

He jumped, before realizing that the sleeping man was awake. He was surprised to see that the older man's eyes were bright red. He stared at the old man with unbridled curiosity. He seemed… familiar, somehow. Especially his voice. It was comforting.

The man spoke again.

"You, my friend," he said, stretching both arms, "Have been sleeping here since my soldiers found you in the Great Maw last night. And, I must say, it didn't sound as if your rest was peaceful."

The older man stood up and reached for the ceiling.

"Aw… that feels good. Yes, you seemed to be having nightmares. I should know, it took me quite some time to get to sleep last night. The chair was uncomfortable, of course. My poor back…"

The man in the bed stared at him. What _was_ he talking about? He looked down at his quilt.

"Can you speak, my friend?" the man asked. "Because if you can't, I've been wasting my time down here. Well?"

The man in the bed looked up.

"I…," he stumbled over the words. He coughed. "I… I'm sorry if I caused you any trouble."

He was surprised at the deepness of his voice. He stopped talking.

The older man gaped at him in amazement and slowly sank back into the chair.

"So," he said, awe in his voice. "You can speak."

The young man nodded.

"I guess I can."

"Then, what is your name, lad? I," he straightened proudly. "I am Ansem the Wise, ruler of the Radiant Garden, also known as Hollow Bastion. Who are you?"

The young man thought a moment, and drew a blank. Did he have a name…? He couldn't remember. It was as if there was a white space in his memory, blocking out the knowledge.

He must have looked as shocked as he felt, because the man… Ansem, looked worried.

"Are you alright, son?"

His voice was softer than before. The man shook his head.

"I…," his voice was barely above a whisper. "I… can't remember my name."

Ansem stared at him.

"I'm sorry," the youth said quickly.

"No, no," Ansem laughed nervously. "No need to apologize. But tell me this; do you remember how you got to Radiant Garden?"

Ansem wasn't laughing anymore. The youth thought hard. What did he remember? His whole mind was blank. Slowly, he shook his head.

"No," he said quietly. "No, I don't."

Ansem's brows furrowed.

"Then, what _do _you remember?"

This time the answer came quick.

"Walking," the youth said with conviction. "I remember walking."

"Anything else?"

"Nothing else," he shook his head. "Nothing else at all."

Ansem breathed out deeply, and sat back in his chair. He stroked the stubble on his chin thoughtfully. He sat like this for sometime before speaking.

"Well," he finally said. "Well. I didn't expect this. This is a conundrum. It seems that you have amnesia."

The youth's eyes widened.

"Am… amnesia?"

That sounded bad.

"It means you can't remember anything," Ansem explained.

The young man looked down.

"How… how do I get my memories back?"

Ansem thought a moment.

"Well…" he said. "Well… I'm afraid… I don't know."

The young man sat down, hard.

"But," he was beginning to panic. "But there _must_ be a way. My memories can't just be… gone."

His dream came flooding back with sudden immediacy. Without memories, he really was nothing, a nobody. He felt ill.

"Please," he said desperately. "Please. Is there a way?"

The old ruler gave him a look. It was a look filled with pity and sadness. The few lines in his face seemed to deepen with the look. The young man felt as if he would be overcome by the sadness of that look.

"I'll talk to Krista," Ansem said at last. "She's the healing woman. She might know something. She _might_."

He had noticed the hopeful look in the young man's eyes.

"I'm not saying for sure. But I will try. For now…" he looked at the man. "you need a name."

"I already have a name."

"Yes, but you don't know what it is."

"I'll know what it is," he said fiercely, "when my memories come back."

"Of course, of course," said Ansem, not sounding at all convinced. "But for now, we need to call you something. Just temporarily!"

The young man was glaring at him.

"Once you get your memories back, we can call you by your real name. But for now…" Ansem thought a moment. "For now, I'll call you Xehanort. What do you think of that?"

"Xena… hort?"

"_Xeha-nort_," Ansem corrected. "It means, roughly, "foreign walker" in the old language of Radiant Garden." Ansem grinned. "That description fits you well, wouldn't you say?"

"Xehanort," he said, trying it out. "I… I guess that will be fine. But only until I get my real name back, right?"

Ansem smiled wryly.

"Of, course, of course. Now, Xehanort, I'm going to go talk to Krista. While I do that, I want you to get some sleep. I don't think you're fully healed yet. Alright?"

The young man, now Xehanort, nodded.

He settled back under the covers, rolling his new name around in his head. Xehanort. _Xehanort_. It was a strange name. A bit long, but he supposed it would do. After all, it was only temporary. He yawned, and closed his eyes…

Ansem waited until Xehanort had fallen asleep before leaving the room. He took on last look back at the young man, his face sad, before passing back through the curtain to talk to Krista.

* * *

Well, that's the second chapter. Chapter three will be up Thursday if that error doesn't occur again. 

By the way, I'd like to thank everyone who read this story and/or reviewed. I was so happy to get such nice reviews! I hope you enjoyed chapter two! Let me know what you think!


	3. Chapter 3: Finding

Yay! New chapter! This one's a little shorter then the last two, but still good. Enjoy!

Edit: Fixed some inconsistencies. Very minor. Just wanted to let you know.

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Chapter 3

Finding

It was midnight, and Ienzo was alone in the castle library. The last visitor, yawning from fatigue, had left at least an hour ago, turning off the lights as he did. Now, the big room lay under a heavy coat of darkness, the black shapes of the lined-up shelves standing like silent sentinels, watching.

Nestled into the corner of the library was a lone table, lit by the light of a single electric lamp. Ienzo sat at the end of the table, bent over a book almost as big as he was. His long hair had come loose from its ponytail, and hung over each side of his face like a curtain. He lifted a hand to tuck a strand behind his ear. Save for a faint rustling of pages and Ienzo's quiet breathing, all was silent in the library.

After a moment, Ienzo shut the book quietly. He lay back in his chair with a sigh, pushing the book aside as he did so. He frowned and quickly stifled a yawn.

As if to get his mind off of sleep, the boy stood with a moan. He reached for the book and hefted it into his arms, stumbling beneath the weight of the tome.

He left his corner, sliding between two shelves. It was like walking down a dark corridor, and Ienzo liked it. He had never cared for large crowds of people, or bright light. He much preferred the darkness. It was mysterious, complicated, unknown.

Reaching the shelf, Ienzo slid the book back into its proper place. He wouldn't take it out again. Unfortunately, he hadn't found the book particularly stimulating.

Ienzo had lived in the castle since he was seven years old and now, six years later, he had read from almost every section in the castle library. What was annoying, though, was that the books had slowly become less interesting as he'd gotten older. In truth, most books bored him now.

Ienzo had learned to read when he was three, and had already known a great deal about science when he had come to the castle. For the past six years, he had continued to learn voraciously. He ate up knowledge, devoured it. He craved it. But now that he knew so much, what was left to learn?

"It's a slump," he told himself glumly. "A slump. I'll get through it."

The real problem, he decided, was that Radiant Garden was too small. How much knowledge could you really get in such a small place? Not much, he had come to realize.

This chain of thought was depressing, so Ienzo brought himself back to the present. He scanned the nearby shelves. What to read next?

As he often did at this time of night, Ienzo walked between each row of shelves he came to. The castle library was enormous, like a city of books and shelves. Ienzo liked to get lost in it, especially when he was pondering something.

He thought about the stranger, sleeping somewhere in the infirmary. He was more excited about the stranger than he would care to admit. If the stranger came from another world, he might be able to give Ienzo something new to think about.

"That way," he thought, "I won't die of boredom."

He paused before a shelf containing books of speculation about other worlds. He had read that section long ago.

Ienzo felt a funny twitch in his nose. His eyes widened. He had the strangest feeling that there was someone standing right behind him.

He spun around, but saw no one, just another shelf.

"Probably nothing," he thought, turning back to the "Other Worlds" section. These books really brought back memories. He thought about the first trip he'd ever taken to this library. He had just arrived at the castle. He had had no friends, and no family. His parents, hoping to earn a reward for bringing Ansem such a smart apprentice, had left without saying goodbye. Ienzo hadn't seen them since. Then, Ansem had befriended him and showed him the library. He introduced him to Elaeus, who had become his best friend.

Ienzo smiled faintly. He had been so awed by the library, by the sight of all those books. More books than you could ever read in a lifetime, he had thought.

He was jerked from his thoughts by another itch in his nose. He muttered venomously under his breath and looked back and forth and behind him. Still nothing. Was someone in here?

"Maybe its Braig trying to play another joke on me," he thought. "Idiot."

Braig had only been an apprentice for a year, and he still couldn't get over how young Ienzo was, and how calm. As a result, he'd been trying to play pranks on Ienzo to see if he would lose his cool. He had tried everything from jumping out from behind corners, to hiding Ienzo's things. Ienzo took these pranks as very minor annoyances.

Now that he thought about it, it probably was Braig who was in the library. It would be just like him to invade Ienzo's personal sanctuary. What an idiot.

Ienzo decided it would be a good idea to turn in. He was tired, and it would be better to leave before Braig put his full plan into action. So, Ienzo padded back between the corridors of shelves the way he had come.

Much as he hated to admit it, Ienzo was beginning to grow tired. He yawned widely and rubbed his eyes. He could at least take comfort in the thought that he would be back at the entrance after just a few more shelves.

He turned the final corner to find himself… at a dead end.

"Aw…" he moaned in frustration. In his exhaustion, he must have taken a wrong turn. It was time to retrace his steps.

Ienzo walked back a few shelves. He was pretty sure he had taken the wrong turn two shelves down. Once there, he took the opposite turn.

But, to his extreme shock, he didn't get back to the entrance. He ended up at yet another dead end. He stopped. What was going on here? He had definitely been headed in the right direction, and he knew the library too well to get lost in it.

"I just have to pay better attention," he told himself. "I'll try again."

But he hit yet another dead end. This was getting much too weird for Ienzo's taste. Maybe Braig had re-arranged the shelves or something… but how could Braig do that in such a short amount of time? He had just walked down these corridors a few minutes ago.

This was silly. He headed out again, wandering past shelf after shelf. But as he went, he just found himself growing more and more confused. No matter which way he went, he couldn't get back to entrance. He felt panic beginning to well up in his chest.

He began to take wild turns, past shelves he didn't recognize, landmarks that didn't look familiar. There had to be a way out of here. There _had_ to be.

Ienzo was so panicked that he tripped and was sent sprawling. He stopped, pulled himself to his feet and leaned against a shelf, breathing hard. He hadn't even realized he had been running.

"This is ridiculous," he told himself. "Just calm down Ienzo, deep breaths."

After a moment, he felt himself begin to calm down. But his wariness didn't disappear. You didn't need to be a genius to see that something wasn't right here, and it wasn't Braig's doing. The word "ghosts" popped into Ienzo's head, but he pushed it away. There was a logical explanation for this situation… he just didn't know what that was.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The strange noise made Ienzo stiffen. He looked around, but saw no one. The tapping continued.

Ienzo's stomach was in knots, but he tried to remain calm, keeping his breathing steady. Slowly, he took a step back, away from the noise. The tapping grew louder. He lost control and began to run.

The boy could still hear the tapping, even as his own feet echoed menacingly off the wood floor. Footsteps. He knew it. Footsteps that were coming for him. Barely sure of where he was going, he whipped around a corner, and found himself faced with another dead end.

"No!" he screamed. He banged on the wall. "No, no, no!"

That tapping again. That awful tapping. He turned away from the wall. It was no use. Whatever had trapped him here was coming for him. He sank to the ground in exhaustion and despair. As he did, the floor shifted beneath his knees.

Ienzo's eyes widened. He fidgeted. The floor moved again.

He moved to the side, looking carefully at the place where he had been kneeling. Sure enough, there was a square shaped seam in the middle of the floor.

His fear forgotten, Ienzo put all his effort into working his fingers underneath the seam. He slipped his fingers beneath the seam, and a piece of the floor popped out. There was a hole in the floor where the square had been.

Ienzo's heart pounded with anxiety, excitement, he wasn't sure which. He set the square of wood aside reached into the hole.

The hole was filled with dust and, he realized with a shiver, probably spiders. But, at last, his hands clamped around something made of smooth wood, about the size of a book. He pulled it out and set it in front of him on the floor.

It was a box. A small wooden box decorated with a design he couldn't make out. He picked it up. It was surprisingly heavy. There was something in it. He shook the box slightly, and examined the design embossed onto its lid. The design was of a heart.

As he reached to lift the lid of the box, the tapping came again, this time louder than before. His fears came flooding back.

Quickly, he scrambled to replace the square back in the floor. He wasn't sure why he did this, only that he didn't want who, or whatever, was coming to see what he had found. He slipped the box into the largest pocket of his pants, and desperately wracked his brains. He knew he would never be able to fight off what was coming, but maybe he'd find a way to escape.

The footsteps came around the corner. Ienzo's breathing came fast. He shut his eyes.

"Ienzo?"

That sounded like… he opened his eyes. Even was standing before him, carrying a candle.

Ienzo felt his shoulders sag with relief. He took a deep breath in and out. He felt jubilant. It was only Even.

The older apprentice came forward, a look that was a mixture of concern and annoyance on his face.

"Ienzo? What are you doing up so late? You should be in bed."

With a cold hand, Even took Ienzo by the chin and forced him to look up at him. Ienzo scowled.

"Calm down," he said with annoyance. "What's wrong Ienzo? You're as white as a ghost. And I thought I heard you screaming before."

The younger boy shook his head. He felt his face reddening. He had let himself get that scared over… Even. Even! Who was, in his opinion the least terrifying man in the world. It was too embarrassing for words.

Even sighed.

"Fine. Fine. Keep your mouth shut if you want. Just go to bed."

Ienzo's breath caught.

"Aren't you…" he said quietly. "Aren't you… going to come with me?"

"Of course not," Even sighed. "What am I, your nanny?"

"But…" Ienzo closed his eyes. It would kill him to say it. "But… I…"

"Spit it out, Ienzo."

"I can't find the way out," he said quickly. His face burned scarlet.

Even stared at him. He raised an eyebrow. His look was one of utmost disbelief.

"What are you talking about?" he said at last. "The way out is right there."

He gestured behind him. Ienzo stepped to the side to see around Even. His mouth hung open. There was the door. Straight ahead.

"But, but," Ienzo sputtered. "But… it wasn't there before! I swear. I looked all over for it…"

The older apprentice gave another sigh, this one heavy and sarcastic.

"I don't know what you've been up to, Ienzo," he said. "But you're obviously too tired to think straight. Now, if you've finished with your nonsense, I'll be off."

Even turned his back and headed in the other direction. Ienzo glared at his retreating back. He was seething, but he was also confused. He _knew_ the door hadn't been there before…

Despite his anger at Even, Ienzo agreed with him on one point. He needed rest. He strode over to the door, the box in his pocket beating time against his leg. Ienzo sighed. He would deal with the box tomorrow. He left the library for the darkened hallway, and shut the door behind him.

* * *

Da-da-dum! Oh my gosh! What will happen next? Find out next Thursday in _Why do you Fear the Darkness?._

Thank you all, once again, for the reviews. At this point, I would like to take the time to mention that if you're reading this story, haven't reviewed before, and would like to, please don't hesitate to do so. Reviews are always welcome. Just not flames. Try to be constructive. Thanks!


	4. Chapter 4: Hesitation

Here's chapter 4. This chapter introduces two new characters... sort of. One of them may be familiar to you. Read on.

Edit: Very minor, once again. Corrected two typos. I love to feed my inner perfectionist.

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Chapter 4

Hesitation

Radiant Garden castle was by no means small, but by morning, word of the mysterious stranger had somehow spread to every servant, noble and child in it. In every corner, hall, nook and cranny the event was discussed, picked apart by citizens eager for news as exciting as this.

But Dilan had only one thing on his mind; escaping from Braig.

Braig had caught him in the garden early that morning. The sun had been shining, and Dilan had been content to simply sit beneath a tree, doodling idly on a small pad of paper. Dilan sighed. He supposed that, if it hadn't been for the doodling, Braig would have left him alone.

But, alas, Braig, being his usual nosy self, just _had_ to look at the doodles over his shoulder.

The pad of paper now sat nearby on the bench, near to where Braig was lecturing Dilan. The pad was covered with writing, the same word over and over again: "Kayla."

"Kayla!" Braig shouted at Dilan. "Kayla! Dude, this is getting out of hand."

"It is not," Dilan said defensively.

"Dilan, you wrote the chick's name all over a frickin' notepad," Braig said. "Complete with little flowers and hearts."

Dilan turned red.

"So?"

He tried to map out his possible escape routes. No, the left exit was too obvious, Braig would stop him. Maybe the right …?

"_So_," Braig said. "Why don't you just tell her how you feel?"

Dilan looked up.

"That's none of your business," he said quietly.

"Oh, yes it is. If some other guy comes along and snaps her up, you'll be depressed. Then I'll get depressed, and where will we be?"

Dilan grinned sadly. It was hard to imagine Braig being depressed. He sighed and sat down on the nearby bench. Braig sat down next to him. Dilan found himself thinking, not for the first time, that they were an odd pair of friends. He, Dilan, was calm, introverted and thoughtful, while Braig was loud, impulsive, social and, more often then not, rude. Most of the other apprentices were repulsed by him, except for maybe Elaeus, who was nice to everyone. But, despite that, Dilan felt comfortable with Braig, and they had become friends.

"My relationship with Kayla isn't that simple," Dilan said at last. "We're friends, it would be awkward if I… told her. Plus, it hasn't been that long since her husband left her. She might not like it."

"Man, it's been like two years."

"It was difficult for her," Dilan snapped. "He left her with a child to raise."

Braig fell silent.

"Okay," he finally said. "Maybe that's true, but I'm worried about you, dude."

He stood up and stretched.

"Just know this; if you don't tell her soon, I'm takin' action."

Dilan jumped to his feet.

"Wh… what kind of action?"

Braig gave Dilan a mischievous smile, one that showed all his teeth and made his scar elongate. Dilan had a really, really bad feeling about that smile.

"Kairi!" Braig called. "Hey, Kairi, come over here a minute!"

Dilan's eyes widened in shock. He gaped at Braig, who just grinned.

"No," he said. "No. You wouldn't."

But he would. From behind a bush, a little girl poked her head out. She had bright red hair. Her little face lit up with a smile.

With a high pitched yell, Kairi ran over to where Braig and Dilan were standing.

Kairi was two years old, and she loved mud, unfortunately. She had just been playing in it, and her hands were covered with it. Despite his anxiety, Dilan clucked his tongue at the little girl.

"Kairi," he said, shaking his head. "You've been playing in the mud _again_? What a mess. Let me get that."

He pulled out a handkerchief, wet it, and bent down to Kairi's level. He wiped her face carefully. She squirmed.

"Mud," she said petulantly. She didn't know many words yet.

"Yes," Dilan repeated. "Mud on Kairi's face. Done."

He gave Kairi's nose a little tweak. She giggled.

Braig rolled his eyes. He would never understand little kids. He pushed Dilan to the side and bent down to talk to the two-year-old. Her eyes widened. She had never liked Braig.

"Braig," said Dilan, annoyed. "She doesn't like you. She won't listen to you."

Braig ignored him.

"Hey, Kairi," he said conversationally. "Where's your mommy?"

She blinked, then shook her head.

"See Braig?" said Dilan, feeling relieved. "Kairi doesn't know where Kayla is. Now leave her alone."

Braig glared at Dilan. He persisted.

"Kairi," Braig said. "Can you go _find_ your mommy and bring her here?"

"Mommy?"

"Yes, mommy."

"For goodness sake, Braig she's not a messenger pigeon …"

"Ok!" Kairi said brightly.

"No, Kairi, wait …"

She dashed off to the castle before Dilan could stop her. He glared at Braig.

"Great, Braig."

He plopped down on the bench.

"That's just great. Send a kid to do your dirty work. That's _really_ going to make me appealing to Kayla."

Braig shrugged.

"No harm done, no harm done. You see, I was never going to get you to talk to Kayla on your own, so I decided to just bring Kayla here to talk to you."

"I'll run away," Dilan threatened.

"And I'll send her off to find you if you do."

"Braig, you're a dirty sneak."

The two men glared at each other for a moment, before they heard the gate to the garden open. Dilan stiffened. They were coming back.

"Good luck," said Braig.

He jumped up and dashed out of the garden, leaving Dilan alone.

"Braig!" yelled Dilan. "Braig! Where are you going?"

He was already gone. Dilan moaned.

"I will kill him," he muttered.

"Kill who?"

He spun around. Kairi was back, holding the hand of a tall young woman who looked like an older version of her daughter, but with green eyes instead of blue. She cocked her head to one side.

"Who were you yelling at, Dilan?" Kayla asked.

"Dilan," Kairi repeated severely.

"Uh … nobody …" he said nervously. "What brings you here?"

She rolled her eyes in the direction of the little girl beside her.

"Little missy here wouldn't leave me alone unless I came out here. She kept talking about you."

"You!" Kairi shouted, pointing at Dilan.

Kayla gently pushed her daughter's arm down.

"Don't point at people, honey."

Kayla straightened and looked back at Dilan. She smiled and brushed a strand of hair out of her face.

"Kairi sure seems to like me," Dilan said, fishing for something to talk about.

"That she does," Kayla said with a nod. "Sometimes, I think she thinks you're her … well." She stopped talking. She looked suddenly sad.

Dilan scratched his head.

"Well, she's very special to me. I have known her since she was born."

"And you've been a great help," Kayla said brightly.

Dilan laughed nervously. He felt a bit sad. He shouldn't have to be this nervous around Kayla. She was his friend.

'Maybe I should tell her,' he thought. 'Just get it over with. I'm sure she'll understand.'

But what if it just hurt her? It was all so confusing.

He opened his mouth, not exactly sure what he planned to say, when Ienzo and Elaeus came rushing outside.

"Dilan! Dilan!" called Elaeus.

The boys ground to a halt, out of breath, their faces red with excitement.

"Hey, boys," said Kayla.

"Boys," repeated Kairi.

"Hey, Kayla," they chorused. "Hey, Kairi."

"What is it?" asked Dilan, both relieved and disappointed that he and Kayla were no longer alone.

"It's the guy they found in the Maw!" Elaeus cried. "He woke up!"

"Great," said Dilan absently.

"How exciting," said Kayla.

Ienzo spoke for the first time.

"Master said that once he's recovered, we'll get to meet him."

"I can't wait!" shouted Elaeus.

Kairi yanked at her mother's arm.

"Wanna go in," she whined.

Kayla scooped Kairi into her arms.

"Sorry," she said. "I've gotta go. Looks like it's time for Kairi's nap. Bye boys."

"B … bye Kayla!" Dilan sputtered. He internally kicked himself. He'd missed his chance.

Elaeus and Ienzo didn't notice his state of distress.

"We're spreading the word," Elaeus said. "Wanna come, Dilan?"

"Uh … no," Dilan said quietly. "No. Sorry. I … I think I'll stay here."

Elaeus gave Dilan a look of concern.

"You don't look so good, Dil," he said. "Something wrong?"

He shook his head quickly.

"No, no. You boys go have fun."

"Well … okay," Elaeus said hesitantly.

"Come on, El!" Ienzo demanded.

They left. Dilan sat back down on the bench, feeling worse then ever.

ooo

Kairi was uncharacteristically quiet as her mother carried her inside. Kayla put it down to exhaustion, and didn't think much of it. She gave Kairi a kiss on top of her red hair.

"Don't worry, sweetie," she murmured. "You're going to take a nap. It's okay."

Kairi buried her face in her mother's chest.

"No," she said, her voice muffled by Kayla's shirt. "No."

She looked up at Kayla, who was shocked to see that her daughter had a serious expression on her face, not the pouty one she usually had when she was grumpy and tired. No, her eyes were clear, and her gaze seemed to pierce Kayla.

"I need to see Grandma."

For a moment, Kayla didn't see her daughter. In place of her, she seemed to see a young woman, wise, beautiful and serious, her face framed in light. Kayla blinked, and the moment passed. Kairi looked like Kairi again, a two-year-old girl. It took Kayla a moment to compose herself before speaking again.

"Wanna see Grandma," Kairi whined.

"Gra … Grandma is very busy," Kayla sputtered. "She's taking care of a sick man."

"Wanna see!"

"No, we can't."

The little girl began to cry loudly. Kayla patted her back and carried her to her room for the nap. Yes, Kairi was just a little girl. Just a little girl.

But, even as she said it to herself, Kayla could not shake the feeling that her daughter, for a moment at least, may have been something more.

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Thanks for the reviews! Chapter 5 will be up next Thursday... 


	5. Chapter 5: Adjustment

Ah... chapter five. Another chapter where not much happens. But don't worry, things will happen later... (Shoot. I _really_ need to work on my author's notes)

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Chapter 5

Adjustment

The ringing of loud, brass bells woke Xehanort around noon. He sat up slowly and rubbed his eyes. It took a few minutes for him to remember where he was. He was in a castle in a place called Radiant Garden, ruled by a man called Ansem the Wise. With a shock, he then remembered his lost memories, and his new name; Xehanort.

Xehanort's stomach gave a long, low growl, which brought him back to reality. How long had it been since he had eaten…? A very long time, certainly. At least two days. He was famished. The bell sounded again, and his nose could faintly register the scent of something that smelled wonderful, not to mention edible. Xehanort's mouth watered.

"Is that a stomach I hear growling?" asked an unfamiliar voice.

Xehanort turned in the direction of the door. From behind the white curtain that covered the door, an old woman entered.

"Who… who are you?" he asked.

"My name is Krista," she said. "I'll be looking after you until you feel better."

Her voice sounded familiar. Xehanort tried to remember where he'd heard it before. He recognized her name, though. Ansem had mentioned talking to a Krista about his lost memories.

"You're Krista?" he said excitedly. "Ansem said…"

"His majesty," she corrected.

"Fine. His majesty said that you might know a cure for my amnesia."

Krista looked nervous.

"Oh," she said. "Oh, um… I'm afraid I don't know a cure."

She shrugged apologetically. Xehanort's heart sank.

"But I will try to find one," she said kindly. "So don't you worry."

"How long will that take?" he asked.

She shook her head.

"I'm afraid I don't know. But I'm sure it will be soon."

Krista clapped her hands together.

"For now, you need some lunch, um… Xehanort, was it? I'll be right back."

She hurried off, and Xehanort fell back on the bed with a thump. Krista didn't know how to cure his amnesia. Now what would he do? For a moment, he was overwhelmed with a crushing feeling of hopelessness and despair.

Krista returned with a full bowl of soup. She handed it to him.

"Careful, dear," she warned. "It's hot."

Despite his sadness, Xehanort was too hungry not to take the soup. As he gulped it down, a great feeling of warmth spread over him. The soup also seemed to clear his head. He didn't feel so depressed anymore. So, maybe he wouldn't get his memories back right away. That wasn't so bad. For now, he would simply focus on getting better; he could worry about his memories later.

He finished the soup and licked his lips.

"Thanks," he said to Krista.

"I did hope you would like it," she said pleasantly. "Now it's time for your medicine."

"Huh?"

The old woman left and came back with a bottle full of nasty smelling liquid. She filled a teaspoon full, and Xehanort was forced to drink it. His opinion of Krista fell a bit.

After this, Krista declared that he needed a bath. He stumbled out of bed on unsteady legs, nearly collapsing in the process.

"The more you walk, the better you should feel," Krista consoled him as she led him to the tub. He had to lean on her to stay upright; his legs were still quite weak.

She led him through the infirmary's main room. It was a long hall lined with many beds like his own, and was empty today. The bathtub was in a small alcove at the end of the hall. Xehanort had never, as far as he could remember, seen a bathtub before. Krista stayed just to show him how to turn on the faucets, and switch the water from hot to cold and back again, before leaving him alone.

Xehanort bathed in silence, for his mind was deep in thought. Despite his weakness and reliance on Krista's help, he felt content. Here in Radiant Garden, he was treated with kindness. He could hardly believe that only the day before he had been cold, exhausted, hungry and alone. As he felt himself relax in the hot water of the tub, he felt as if he could stay just as he was forever, and still be happy.

But he knew, in the depths of his mind, that he couldn't stay in the infirmary forever. A shadow weighed on his thoughts, the shadow of the memories he had lost. Much as he tried not to think of the memories, he knew that he wanted them back desperately, and eventually he would have to find them. He could not truly rest until he did.

Despite his resolve, Xehanort did not leave the infirmary that day, or the next day, or the next day. In that time, he did not see Ansem at all, only Krista. He spent his time resting, eating, and regaining his strength, for he was still too weak to go far from his bed. Every day, Krista made sure that he exercised. He started out by walking with Krista's help, a little farther every day. After a week, he was strong enough to walk on his own, and Ansem paid him a visit.

Xehanort had been sitting on his bed, his legs pulled up to his chest, looking out at the sky. He had begun to grow weary of the infirmary now that he wasn't so weak, and was growing bored. The entire week had been bright and hot, the sky a cloudless blue. The green leaves of the trees outside his window shown in the sun; they seemed to beckon him outside into the light of day.

"Good afternoon, my lad."

The youth was surprised out of his reverie, and more surprised still to see Ansem, for had not seen the ruler since his first day in the infirmary. Xehanort stumbled to his feet and bowed, just as Krista had instructed him to do in the presence of his majesty. He waited, his long hair hanging over his face.

"No, no need for that," Ansem said lightly. "Stand up, its fine."

He quickly did as Ansem bid. The older man smiled. He looked just as Xehanort remembered, old, but somehow young at the same time. Looking Xehanort up and down, he stroked his beard. He nodded as if pleased.

"You look much better," he said. "The last time I saw you, you looked near death, or at least like you needed a month to recover… but now…" He laughed softly, "I can hardly believe it's only been a week!"

The young man grinned nervously.

"Do I really look that much better?"

Ansem strode over to Xehanort and took him gently by the shoulders. He steered him over to a mirror that stood beside the youth's bed.

"Look," he said.

Xehanort looked, and was in awe. He had only looked in the mirror once before, right after he had taken his bath, many days ago. Then, his reflection had been thin, pale, and sickly, his hair matted and wet. He hadn't liked it at all. But now… he looked like a new man. His face was full, and shone a healthy red-brown; his clean white hair sparkled in the light from the noonday sun. His features were chiseled and handsome. He had to admit he looked pretty good. He touched the mirror, as if not sure it was real.

"Wow," he breathed.

"Different, isn't it?" Ansem said mildly.

"Yeah… but, hey…"

He looked over at Ansem.

"Did you ever notice before that my eyes are red?"

"Why… no."

Ansem examined the reflection.

"But I do believe you're right. It isn't immediately obvious… they could be mistaken for light brown… but now that I look at them, they most certainly are red."

Xehanort blinked.

"So," he said slowly. "My eyes are kind of like yours."

"I suppose you're right," Ansem laughed. "We have something in common. You know, I've never met anyone else with red eyes."

"Really?"

Xehanort found himself grinning. He wasn't sure why, but having something in common with Ansem made him feel happy and lighthearted. He stepped away from the mirror.

"All right," said Ansem. "Now, Xehanort, we should get down to business."

"What business?"

"The business of getting you out of this infernal infirmary and into the real world! I've been talking with Krista, and she says that you're ready to leave. Now that I've seen you, I quite agree with her. I've brought you some clothes, so you can change out of those pajamas, and once you're ready, I can take you around the castle, help you get your bearings. In a few days, you can decide what you plan to do."

Xehanort, who had felt suddenly elated at the prospect of leaving the infirmary, felt himself drop a few notches.

"What do you mean," he said nervously. "'What I plan to do?'"

"Well, I mean what you want to do in the future," Ansem explained. "Do you plan to stay here, or go into town and find a trade, or perhaps you'll want to try to find a way home. It's hard to say. But you can stay in this castle as long as you feel you need to."

This made Xehanort feel a bit better. He sighed.

"My decision's already made," he said. "I'm staying here. I need to recover my memories, and you said you would help me."

Ansem looked suddenly nervous.

"Uh… about that," he said. "I… I know I… um… told you that I would help you. I will, but the fact of the matter is I don't know how, and finding out how could take some time. Are you… are you really willing to wait that long?"

Xehanort nodded shortly.

"I'll wait forever if I have to," he said firmly.

Ansem didn't speak a moment.

"All right, then," he finally said. "That's a fine decision. Now let me get your new clothes, and we can be off."

ooo

The night after he found the box, Ienzo's dreams were fitful and full of darkness and monsters. He was glad when he awoke, sweating and breathing hard, the next day. However, even the light he could see through his window didn't comfort him. He felt relieved, but also as if he were still in the grips of the nightmare; as if he were running from something he could not escape from. He angrily shut these thoughts out and got dressed. It was only after he had gone downstairs for breakfast in the kitchen that he even remembered the box.

The knowledge of it seemed to squeeze his heart, making it difficult for him to breathe. He wanted to open it, open it now. He had planned to open it that very morning, until the dream had driven it from his brain. Now, he felt as if something terrible would happen if he didn't open the box.

Ienzo barely registered Elaeus coming to sit down beside him. Elaeus was all chatter that morning, most of it meant little to the boy, but El continued on in spite of this. He had noticed Ienzo's mood, and hoped to break him from it.

Finally, he got Ienzo's attention.

"Hey, Ezo, did you know that the stranger woke up?"

For a time, Ienzo brightened, and talked with Elaeus. He even agreed to run around the castle spreading the news. Though he had fun, he moved in a fog throughout the day. He was silent one minute, then impatient and distractible the next. The knowledge of the box haunted him.

At last, the maddening day ended, and Ienzo could go back to his room. He left Elaeus without as much as a good night, and tore up the stairs. He flung the door to his room open, grabbed the box from his drawer, and flung off the lid like a man possessed.

The inside of the box was lined in velvet, and lying on the lining was a black book. Ienzo felt his breathing still. The book was decorated with the same heart symbol as the box. With trembling fingers, Ienzo lifted the book from the box.

He set the box aside, and sat on his bed. He opened the book. The title page read:

The Heart

A Guide to its Darkness and its Light

There was no author listed. Feeling calmer, Ienzo flipped to the first page and began to read.

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And I will leave you with that. See you next week! (heh heh heh)

Thanks again for reading and reviewing!


	6. Chapter 6: Rivalries

Chapter 6

Rivalries

Silent, watchful and patient, Even stood by the open window. A breeze, refreshing in the recent heat, played across his face and rustled his long, loose hair. He barely seemed to notice. He was intent on watching the blue beetle that was crawling across his hand.

The beetle had flown in on the breeze, and Even had paused from his work, easily catching it. Now, he studied it, let it crawl across his hand and see what it would do. He had never seen an insect like it before.

Even was careful with the insect. He stroked it to calm it down, and murmured to it. He had never understood why people insisted on killing "bugs." After all, they were alive, and so fascinating. They never hurt anyone. They were simply misunderstood.

Satisfied, he gave the beetle a final pat and set his hand down on the windowsill. The beetle crawled off. It spread its wings and took off into the summer air. Even sighed. And watched it go. He hoped he would have time to catalogue it.

"Good flight, friend," he murmured.

He turned back to the piles of reports stacked on top of his desk.

ooo

For the past few days, Ansem hadn't been around much, leaving Even to edit his reports, clean up around the lab, and do whatever else had to be done. Even was happy to oblige; he was fiercely loyal to his master, and he loved science. But over the past few days, it had become tiresome. The other apprentices helped, but since he was the one most driven to get the job done, he had done much of it himself.

This was not a new trend. Even did a lot of the work when Ansem _was_ around. Part of him didn't mind, but another part of him was frustrated. All this work was taking the fun out of the science he loved. He hardly ever had time to work on his own projects anymore.

'It's because Master trusts me,' he convinced himself. 'I've been here the longest, I'm the most responsible.'

Though he was only the second oldest, Even had been in the castle longer than Dilan, Ienzo, Elaeus or Braig. He had been apprenticed to Ansem as a twelve-year-old and had quickly grown to respect him. Ansem was the leading scientist in the kingdom. Even was proud to have such a mentor… and yet.

He shook his head. If he kept distracting himself he wouldn't have time to catalogue the insect _or_ finish the reports. He glanced at the stack of reports one last time, then reached inside a drawer in the desk and pulled out a blue notebook. He opened it and flipped to a blank page. It was filled with detailed, labeled sketches of insects, complete with a small paragraph about each one. Even picked up a pen and sat down. He knew he wouldn't have time to do a full sketch, but he would at least be able to jot down a few notes. He dipped his pen in an inkwell and prepared to write.

"Even!"

Even was so jarred that the pen slipped from his fingers and clattered to the floor. He swore and bent to pick it up. The sketchbook fell to the floor beside the pen. He swore louder.

From the doorway, Elaeus whistled.

"You ought to watch your language, Even."

Even stood and set the supplies on the table.

"What do you want?" He said with a glare. "This had better be important."

Elaeus shrugged.

"The importance of my message, Even," he said mischievously, "depends upon your point of view."

"Just spit it out," Even sighed.

"Master wants us in his study. You coming?"

Elaeus grinned at him. He knew that Even admired Ansem.

"Of course I'm coming," Even said resignedly. "Just let me tidy up a bit first."

He began to scoop up reports, notes, and other scraps of paper and organize them into neat piles.

"I'll help," Elaeus volunteered.

"I'm fine," Even snapped.

Elaeus ignored the outburst and grabbed a wad of papers.

"So," the young man said. "What's on your mind, Even?"

Even slipped some papers into a folder, and set the folder in a filing cabinet.

"Who said anything was on my mind?"

"No one. You just seem kind of…" He watched Even slam shut the filing cabinet drawer, "…stressed out."

Even looked over at Elaeus. To his surprise, he felt a sudden outpouring of gratitude toward his fellow apprentice. Elaeus really did have a good heart.

"I…" he started to say. He felt a headache coming on. "I'm just a little tired. I'll be fine."

"No you won't," Elaeus said seriously. "You look awful."

Even smiled. There were large, dark, circles under his eyes, and lines on his face that hadn't been there before.

"Oh…" he scratched his head, "do I?"

Elaeus groaned, took him by the shoulder, and steered him into a chair. Even sank into it gratefully.

"You rest, I'll finish up," Elaeus ordered.

"It's fine… you don't have to."

"I'm going to."

Even sat and watched Elaeus file. He himself was surprised by how tired he felt. Every muscle in his body seemed to throb. He gently massaged his shoulders and winced. He really needed more exercise. He looked back at Elaeus.

"Um, you do know how to file those, don't you?" he said nervously.

Elaeus was stuffing folders with abandon, and putting them into the cabinets upside down. Even winced again, but not from pain.

"I can file them just fine," Elaeus replied as he put a folder full of paper inside another folder full of paper, "This is a communal lab. I use the system too."

"Well, it might be better if you would just… CONCENTRATE!"

Elaeus had involuntarily knocked two stacks of paper to the floor. Even leapt from his chair and began to gather them up.

"Oops…" said Elaeus.

"Shoot…"

"Even," Elaeus said calmly, "you have _got_ to chill. Master won't mind if things are a little messy. He's not exactly organized, is he?"

Even sighed.

"But someone around here has to be. And that person's me. Master trusts me, after all."

He put the paper back on the desk and rubbed his forehead. He definitely had a headache. Elaeus gave him a concerned look.

"Even, you're stressed because you feel like Master doesn't appreciate you, right?"

Even didn't reply immediately. He bit his lip.

"Well…" he finally said, "yes, a little. I just…" he struggled to think of what to say. "I just feel like he still thinks of me as an apprentice, though now I'm technically his assistant since I'm over twenty.

"Way over twenty," Elaeus joked.

"Whatever. I just wish he'd see me as a fellow scientist."

Elaeus walked over and put a hand on his shoulder.

"I see where you're coming from," he said. "You do more work than any of us. And you are a good scientist. A really good scientist."

Even looked up, surprised at the compliment.

"Thanks."

El nodded seriously.

"It's true. But, I don't think you should assume right away that Master doesn't appreciate you. Master is…" he sighed. "He's a really great guy, but he does have a tendency to get wrapped up in his own problems and ignore other people. Maybe… maybe you should talk to him."

The older apprentice looked away from his friend and towards the open window. He considered what he'd said. He supposed Elaeus was right.

"I'll do it," he said quietly, then more loudly. "We're done here, let's go."

He stood and turned to leave.

"You're not going to finish up?" Elaeus asked.

Even shook his head.

"I'll do it later. Come on."

He strode from the room, but looked back at his friend.

"Uh… thank you, Elaeus."

Even left. Elaeus shook his head.

"You're welcome."

ooo

"All right, Xehanort," Ansem said seriously. "Are you ready?"

Xehanort nodded.

"I think so."

They stood in Ansem's study, both of them stiff and nervous. Xehanort, decked out in a new suit and tie, could hardly keep still. He fidgeted and pulled at his tie, his mind racing. He was about to meet the king's five apprentices. It would be the first time that he had met anyone other than Ansem or Krista, at least as far as he could remember. They were about his age, and he was worried. These men were probably much more intelligent, talented and knowledgeable then he. Would they judge him? Mock him? Laugh at him? After all, he hardly knew anything about manners or etiquette. He would probably make a stupid mistake and embarrass himself.

"Don't worry, Xehanort," Ansem said, noticing the other man's behavior, "I'm sure my apprentices will like you. You'll all become fast friends; I know you will."

Xehanort nodded. Unlike him, Ansem seemed excited as opposed to nervous. A smile lit up his face. He paced across the room, sometimes sitting down, sometimes jumping to his feet. It was dizzying to watch.

"But Ans… Your Majesty," Xehanort corrected himself. "What if they _don't_ like me?"

Ansem paused in his pacing and gave the young man a sharp look.

"Of course they'll like you. I just said they would, didn't I?"

"Yeah… but _what if_ they don't?" he said. "I mean… um… do they usually like strangers?"

Ansem thought a moment.

"Well…" he said. "Elaeus does, but Even can be a bit standoffish, I suppose. Braig likes to tease, though he's usually good natured about it, and only gets out of hand sometimes. Dilan doesn't really like strangers, he's very careful about whom he befriends, and I never _can_ tell what Ienzo's thinking." Seeing Xehanort's look of horror, he said quickly. "But, they're really all very, _very_ nice young men."

"Uh-huh…"

"Xehanort," Ansem said firmly. "I think you need some ice cream. I'll get you some. What flavor?"

"I don't know what ice cream is."

"That's all right; I'll think of a flavor for you."

Ansem rushed off.

Xehanort heaved a sigh and sat down in a wooden chair. Ansem was incorrigible. He was a kind man, but Xehanort was steadily finding out that he was also not the easiest person to talk to.

Xehanort shook his head. Ansem. He was difficult, but Xehanort really was glad he'd met him. Without Ansem, he wouldn't have any friends in the castle. The apprentices didn't exactly sound like a promising bunch. He sighed again. This was going to be difficult.

No sooner had Xehanort thought this than he heard a knock at the door. He sat up straighter. Was that Ansem back with ice cream? Or was it… no. It couldn't be. Horror washed over Xehanort. They couldn't be here yet. Not now. Not without Ansem here. What would he do?

The door burst open. Two men stood there. One didn't look much older than him, and had long black hair and cold blue eyes. He stood behind the older man, who had gray hair, a scarred face, and an eyepatch. This man spoke.

"Hey, Master? What'd you wanna see us about…?"

His eyes drifted over to the chair where Xehanort sat.

"Hey, who're you?"

Xehanort stood quickly. Were these men some of the apprentices?

"Um…" he started, "I'm…"

"No one's allowed in here except us," the scarred man said loudly. "You should get out."

"His Majesty…" Xehanort sputtered. "His Majesty asked me to come. He wanted me to meet his apprentices."

"Yeah. Sure he did," the man said coldly. "You should get out of here, loser."

Xehanort tried to speak, but the black-haired man got there first.

"Calm down, Braig," hee said calmly, "We don't know that he isn't telling the truth."

"I _am_ telling the truth," Xehanort said.

"Yeah, but since we _don't_ know, how can we trust him?" the scarred man said, ignoring Xehanort.

"Hey, would you listen to me?" Xehanort snapped.

"No need to get angry," the raven-haired man addressed Xehanort calmly.

"Yeah, who do you think you are anyway?" the older man, Braig, cut in.

"Isn't it obvious?" said a new voice.

The three men turned towards the door. Two more men stood there. The one who had spoken had long brown hair, and the other was large and muscular with frizzy red hair.

"He's the man Master and Ienzo found walking in the Great Maw," the brown-haired one continued. "He's the man who may be an off-worlder."

The two original men, and the muscular one, looked back at Xehanort. Braig narrowed his eyes.

"That true?" he asked sharply. "You're the guy?"

"Yes," said Xehanort, meeting his gaze squarely.

"See?" said the black haired man, rolling his eyes at Braig. "I _told_ you not to jump to conclusions, Braig."

The muscular man stepped into the room with an excited look on his face.

"Wow," he breathed. "_You're_ the off-worlder?"

He grabbed Xehanort's hand and shook, squeezing his hand painfully. Xehanort winced.

"I'm Elaeus," the man said with a grin. "I'm honored to meet you."

He let go, Xehanort moved his sore arm gingerly.

"Thanks. I'm Xehanort."

"Dilan," said the black-haired man, stepping forward.

"Braig," Braig said sullenly.

"Even," said the brunette. "It's a pleasure."

Xehanort nodded at each apprentice, forcing a smile. Things were going okay; he just hoped he wouldn't mess this up. Ansem still wasn't back with the ice cream, after all.

"Well," said Dilan. "It looks like the gang's all here, except for Master and Ienzo. Where are they, anyway?"

"I don't know," said Elaeus. "I haven't seen Ienzo in awhile, actually. I think he's shut up in his room. I'm not sure about Master, though."

"He," Xehanort cut in, "he went to get ice cream."

Dilan rolled his eyes.

"Master and his Ice cream," he said with a sigh, "he sure does love that stuff."

"Yeah," said Braig with a laugh, "remember that time when he ate all the ice cream in the fridge in one night?"

"Uh-huh," cut in Elaeus, "and what about that one time when he…"

Elaeus launched into a long story that the other apprentices seemed to be familiar with. They laughed and chatted, adding in details Elaeus may have forgotten. Xehanort just listened quietly, unsure of exactly what the story was about and feeling left out.

But Xehanort wasn't the only one not paying attention to the story. Across the room, Even, the tall, brown-haired apprentice, was quiet. Noticing that Xehanort was watching him, he looked up. Their eyes met for a moment, before Xehanort looked away.

"Hey, Xehanort?"

Dilan's voice jarred Xehanort back to reality.

"Uh-huh?"

"We were wondering," he said "Where do you come from, Xehanort?"

"Yeah," said Braig. "You really from another world?"

Xehanort stiffened. What should he tell them?

"I…"

He was saved from answering by Ansem.

"Ah!" he cried after spotting the apprentices. "You're all here! I assume you're getting introduced, making friends and the like? Wonderful! Would anyone care for some ice cream?"

He indicated the jars he carried in the crook of his arm. The apprentices exchanged looks and shrugged, then went forward to accept the ice cream. Ansem handed each apprentice a cone, except for Braig, who was lactose-intolerant. He handed Xehanort a cone with light blue ice cream. The young man stared at it.

"Oh," Ansem noticed Xehanort's staring, "It's Seasalt. My personal favorite."

"Seasalt?"

"It's salty and sweet at the same time," he explained, "Try it. It's good. Besides, I don't often let strangers eat from my personal store of Seasalt ice cream."

Xehanort was skeptical, but he obliged and gave the ice cream a tentative lick. His eyes widened. It really was good.

Ansem nodded knowingly.

"See?" he said. "I knew you'd like it."

Xehanort smiled; smiled his first real smile since he had left the infirmary. Ansem smiled back. Across the room, Even turned his gaze to the floor. Xehanort looked away from Ansem and over at Even, who continued to stare resolutely at the floor. Ansem didn't notice, and turned his attention to the other apprentices.

"Wait," said Ansem, "Where's Ienzo? Does he know we're meeting?"

"Maybe not," said Elaeus. "I'll go get him, if you want."

"Good idea. Go on ahead."

As Elaeus left, the apprentices and Xehanort took chairs and organized them into a circle.

"Sit here, Xehanort," said Ansem, indicating a chair beside him.

Xehanort sat. As he did, Even took the chair on Ansem's other side. When Ansem wasn't looking, he gave Xehanort a fierce glare. Taken aback, Xehanort looked away. Was Even… _angry_ at him? But why?

"We're here!" called Elaeus.

Elaeus was back, and with him was a boy, Ienzo, probably. He was much younger than the other apprentices, his mousy hair was mussed, and his expression was distinctly grumpy. However, he still nodded at his Master when he saw him, and gave Xehanort an inquisitive look.

"Xehanort, this is Ienzo," Ansem said. "Ienzo, this is Xehanort."

The man and the boy exchanged polite nods. Ansem clapped his hands to get their attention.

"All right," he said, "as most of you know, this is Xehanort."

He nodded at him.

"Xehanort is a guest of mine, recently out of the infirmary, and," he paused dramatically. "A possible off-worlder."

"Tell us something we don't know," said Braig in an undertone.

"Wait," said Even. "What do you mean by a 'possible' off-worlder?"

Xehanort gulped. He tried to catch Ansem's eye. Tried to silently communicate with him.

'Don't tell them,' he thought, 'don't tell them.'

But Ansem didn't hear his silent pleas.

"Xehanort has… amnesia," he said slowly.

The apprentices all looked at Xehanort, who withered under their gazes. Why, oh why, had he had to tell them?

Elaeus spoke first.

"Amnesia," he said, looking at Xehanort, "Wow. I'm… I'm very sorry."

"Th… thanks."

"How much do you remember?" Dilan said gently.

Xehanort looked at the floor. His answer was barely audible.

"Nothing from before I came here."

Dilan and Elaeus looked genuinely sad, and Ienzo's face was unreadable… but Even looked skeptical.

"Wait a minute," he said. "Wait just a minute. He doesn't remember _anything_? How do you know he's from another world?"

"I suspect that he is," Ansem replied calmly. "I don't know."

"Well then," Even's voice rose, "how do you know he's telling the truth? What if he's a thief, or a con man?"

"Even," Elaeus said nervously, "Calm down."

Xehanort sat helplessly by, not sure what to do.

'Oh, Ansem,' he thought despairingly, 'why did you have to tell them?'

Ansem spoke.

"I may not know much about Xehanort," he said softly, "but I trust him."

He met Even's gaze. He didn't look angry, but there was firmness in his gaze. Even looked away.

"Now that that's settled," Ansem said, "I need someone to give Xehanort a tour of the castle. Any volunteers?"

After much discussion, it was decided that Braig and Dilan would give Xehanort the tour. Xehanort, who was beginning to feel tired, elected to go back to the infirmary and meet his guides after lunch. With this decided, the apprentices departed.

With a yawn, Ansem stood.

"Hard to believe it's just noon," he yawned, "do you want me to walk you back to the infirmary?"

"No," Xehanort said quietly, "I can go myself."

Ansem raised his eyebrows.

"Really?" he said, "the castle can be a place hard to navigate if you're not used to it. Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

Ansem gave Xehanort a sharp look.

"Is there something wrong, Xehanort?"

"No," he said quickly.

"Xehanort," Ansem said gently, "If this is about… what I told my apprentices… I'm sorry. I just… I felt that it wouldn't do any good to hide it."

"It would have kept Even from being suspicious of me."

"I can't control what Even thinks," Ansem said, "in life, you make choices. You can't always control the outcome of those choices. In this case, I chose to tell my apprentices about your amnesia. I thought it would be a good idea."

"I think," said Xehanort, "that's a choice I should have made myself."

He turned to leave, than turned back.

"But," he said, "but… thanks for saying you trust me."

Xehanort strode quickly from the room.

"Hello, Master."

To Ansem's surprise, Even was waiting for him outside. The old ruler's eyes narrowed as he turned toward his apprentice.

"Even," he said angrily, "what kind of a stunt was that you pulled?"

Even's voice was calm.

"What stunt?"

"The way you treated Xehanort!" he burst out, "You treated him like a common criminal! That is no way to treat a guest in my castle, and I will not tolerate it!"

Ansem stopped so that Even could let his words sink in. Ansem's face was bright red, and his eyes shone fiercely. Even took in an angry breath.

"Why?" he said, his voice cracking, "Why is_ he_ your guest? Why is _he _worthy of your respect? Why when I…?"

He choked and stopped talking. Ansem's brow furrowed in concern. He came forward and placed his hands on Even's shoulders.

"Even, what's wrong?"

Even refused to meet his eyes.

"Please, Even… tell me."

At last, Even looked up. His eyes were blank. He shrugged off Ansem's hands.

"There's nothing to tell."

Than he turned and was gone, and Ansem was left alone and confused for the second time that afternoon


	7. Chapter 7: Learning

Hi everybody! Don't worry, I'm still here. This will be my last chapter for three weeks, but it should tide you over. It's kind of short, and not a lot happens, but don't fear, things are building up...

Edit: More perfectionisty stuff. Read on.

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Chapter 7

Learning

"This is the front hall," Dilan said, gesturing with his arms as he spoke, "it is where members of the nobility and guests of honor are received. Servants and commoners are received one level below here. Notice the bright sheen of the wood panels in this room; this is architecture from…."

Both Xehanort and Braig were having difficulty listening to Dilan on the tour of the castle. Braig was bored out of his mind, while Xehanort, though interested, kept losing focus on Dilan's words. He kept thinking about his confrontation with Ansem. Had he been unfair to Ansem? Should he go apologize? Part of him thought so, but part of him wasn't sure.

Braig, on the other hand, while glad that Dilan was happy (he hadn't been himself since the Kayla incident) deeply regretted having come on the tour. Why _had_ he volunteered to come, anyway? He lived in the castle; it wasn't as if he _needed_ to hear about the architecture.

"Neither of you are listening to me, are you?"

It took both men a moment to realize that Dilan was addressing them. They exchanged looks, then said in unison:

"Yeah."

"Well, that's just great," Dilan said with a sigh. "Braig, you, at least, should know better. Why did you bother coming along anyway?"

He shrugged.

"Dunno. I thought it might be fun. But _your_ idea of a tour," he waved a hand in front of his face, "it stinks, frankly."

Xehanort snickered in spite of himself. Dilan gave him a sharp look and he stifled it with a cough. Dilan turned back to Braig.

"You could at least help me," he complained, "that's what you're supposed to be doing, anyway."

"That's the best idea you've had all day, Dil-man!" Braig said brightly.

He slung an arm over Xehanort's shoulders and steered him towards the nearest staircase.

"I'll give you a _real_ tour of the castle," he assured him, "Come on!"

Dilan ran after them.

"Braig, come back!"

"Um… could you let me go?" Xehanort said.

No one paid him any mind.

By the time they had run up the stairs, all three men were breathing hard. Braig released Xehanort.

"Okay… Braig…" Dilan panted, "What do you want?"

"I'm just gonna give Xeha here…"

Xehanort looked up.

"Xeha?" he said quizzically.

"Yeah. "Xehanort's" too long. I'm gonna call you 'Xeha.' "

"You can't just…"

"Quiet, Xeha. I'm talking. Anyway," he turned back to Dilan, "_I'd _like to give Xeha the tour."

Dilan raised his eyebrows.

"You…?" he said, "…give the tour?

"Yeah. Sure. Why not?"

"Because you're going to fill his head with garbage."

"I will not. Watch me."

Before Dilan could stop Braig, Xehanort was off on a whirlwind tour of Radiant Garden, one that was considerably… different… than Dilan's. Through Braig, he got to learn where Duchess So-and-so had been found kissing Duke Someone-or-other, where servant what's-his-face had been caught stealing doorknobs, and where Braig stored his booze, among other things. Luckily, Dilan was there to cut in with his own comments, and thus keep Xehanort's head from being filled with _complete_ trash.

Despite these difficulties, Xehanort did manage to learn a bit about the castle. He learned that it had been built before recorded history. Ansem had discovered it upon the founding of Radiant Garden, and he had equipped it with his own inventions. The castle, and the village, received their electrical power from underground rivers, which were contained by a mixture of magical and technological power. Since the castle was extremely large, occupants of the castle moved about on open-air lifts. There were special rooms, called lift stops, where these lifts could be boarded, and they hung on magically generated cables, which resembled crisscrossing beams of light. Xehanort saw several lifts, but the trio did not need to board any that day.

The large castle was divided into three separate sections, and had multiple entrances and tunnels. The first section consisted of the middle floor, where most of the daily business of the castle was conducted. It housed the library, rooms for the nobility and other occupants of the castle, and Ansem's small study. Some occupants, such as the servants, were allowed in this section of the castle only.

The second section consisted of the castle's highest towers. This was where the political business of Radiant Garden was conducted. It contained the rooms where parliament met, Ansem's large, official laboratory, and a chapel and celebration room. It was in these last two rooms that important events such as feast days and coronations were held. From this second section, one could also get a magnificent view of the kingdom. Dilan and Braig informed Xehanort, much to his disappointment, that he was not allowed to visit the second section.

But Xehanort would probably not have known of the third section at all if the trio hadn't taken a wrong turn.

They had turned into a small lift stop. Like the others, it was a platform made of marble. The lift hung over its destination, and the section of the platform that opened onto it was blocked by a magical-powered barrier. Beside the lift was a small apparatus which, when touched, would both activate the lift and teleport whoever touched it onto it. Most lift stops had doors at either ends, but this one had only an elevator, and no door on the other end. And the floor below the elevator was very far away, since the cables disappeared into darkness. Braig scratched his head.

"Dead end," he said, "I guess we took a wrong turn."

Dilan and Braig moved to turn back, but Xehanort stopped them.

"What about the lift?"

Dilan turned back.

"Oh, that? That just leads to the basement."

"The basement?" asked Xehanort, "What's down there?"

"Nothing much," Dilan said, "It's where the levees that control the river are kept. Our power source is down there."

"Wow," Xehanort breathed, "Can we go?"

"Only workers are allowed down there. Besides, the control center is only one small part of the basement. There are also some empty, deserted rooms down there, places that have flooded and caved in. And tunnels."

"Tunnels?"

"Yes," said Dilan, "there's a veritable labyrinth of tunnels down there. Which is yet another reason not to go. If you work there, you know which tunnels to take, and you probably won't get lost, but if you don't know your way around…"

Braig drew a finger across his throat. Xehanort started.

"You'll get lost," Dilan explained, "and you may never find your way out."

Xehanort felt a shudder creep up his spine. Braig began to moan.

"Ooo…" he moaned ominously. "Ooo… Xeha, there are ghosts down there… ghosts…Oooo."

Dilan rolled his eyes.

"Really funny. Let's go."

The apprentices turned and left, but Xehanort didn't. He moved as close to the ledge as he could, and looked down into the dark, deep pit. His mind seemed to go blank, and he stared as if in a trance. Images seemed to dance in the darkness, images he could not quite place… and through it all, a dark voice seemed to call him down, down, down….

"Xeha!"

The spell was broken. Xehanort tore his eyes away from the darkness, and looked over at the door.

"Xeha!" Dilan called again, "Are you coming?"

"Ye… yes!" he stuttered, "Just a second!"

He took one last look at the dark pit, than he turned to follow Braig and Dilan.

ooo

"Ienzo, are you okay?" Elaeus asked him after the meeting.

The question came out of the blue. They had been walking, side by side, for awhile now, talking of things that they usually talked of, things that were perfectly normal, things that were safe. Than Elaeus had asked, and Ienzo knew that, somehow, Elaeus had discovered his secret. Not through poking or prying; those were not Elaeus' skills, but by that uncanny ability he had to know how Ienzo felt. It had always been so.

It took Ienzo time to answer the question, but Elaeus was patient. Elaeus waited. They kept walking.

"I am okay," Ienzo finally answered.

He smiled at his friend, the corners of his mouth drooping. A false smile.

"Why wouldn't I be okay?"

He said it faintly, as if he spoke to himself more than to his friend. Elaeus opened his mouth as if to speak, but closed it. He bit his lip, and they walked on.

It was not the same. There was uneasiness between them now, though it wasn't easily visible, not on the surface. Ienzo kept his head down more, and Elaeus talked less, but it was more than that.

Not telling Elaeus about the book, about his secret, pained Ienzo. He told Elaeus everything. Elaeus was his only friend; or had been.

'You didn't tell him about the library,' a voice in his head chastised.

No, he hadn't. But how could he? It was bizarre, embarrassing. Maddening.

'I'm not crazy,' Ienzo told his conscience.

Besides, he had a new friend now. The book. At last, he was learning new things. Things that none of the other apprentices knew, things that Ansem himself didn't know. Knowledge that was not kept in the library. Knowledge that was his, and his alone.

True, he didn't understand it all. The book told of the secrets of darkness, and of the heart, but the concepts were difficult ones, and the book was written in a halting, almost evasive style, as if the author feared the very secrets he or she had written down, and wished to avoid too much detail. But, Ienzo was determined to conquer these obstacles. He was determined to know, to understand.

He could not, would not, share his knowledge with Elaeus… or anybody else.

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Thanks for reading and reviewing!

As I mentioned last week, I am going on vacation, so the story is taking a three week hiatus. I'll miss you all, and I can't wait to post Chapter 8 three weeks from now! I promise to work hard on it and the rest of the story! See you!


	8. Chapter 8: Worries

Chapter 8

Worries

"Run!" Kairi shrieked, "Run! Run!"

Dilan winced. The two-year-old and he were out in the garden, and they were both running around in circles. He, trying desperately to catch her, and she thinking they were playing a fun game.

Finally, Dilan managed to tackle her. They were sent sprawling. Dilan hit his head, and Kairi screamed with laughter.

"Again!" she cried, "Again!"

Dilan moaned.

"Kairi, I can't play anymore. You're killing me, here…"

"Again," she demanded.

'Will she _ever_ run out of energy?' Dilan wondered.

Today, it didn't seem like Kairi would. Dilan had been babysitting her all morning, and she had been happy and hyperactive the entire time. They had played tag, hide-and-seek, piggy-back and chase, and she showed absolutely no signs of letting up. The idea that a girl her size had that much energy was terrifying.

Dilan, on the other hand, was beat. He hadn't slept well the night before, and now Kairi was wearing him out. When Kayla had asked him to babysit that morning, he had almost refused. Almost. But, as usual, he hadn't in the end. He never could.

He had been babysitting Kairi her whole life. Dilan had first met Kayla about a year before Kairi was born. They had bonded quickly, though their relationship was then, as it had always been, platonic. Kayla had been married then, married to a man named Cal. Dilan had never liked him. Kayla had always seemed uneasy around him. Dilan soon found out why.

During a conversation with Kayla, it had slipped out: Cal had been abusing her. Dilan hadn't been sure what to do at the time. He now wished that he had given Cal a good beating, but it was too late for that. Not long after, Cal had left the castle, leaving behind a pregnant Kayla.

Dilan, feeling responsible, had helped his friend through her pregnancy, and, once she was born, with her daughter. Somehow, over time, he had realized that he had fallen in love. He had fallen in love with Kairi as a daughter, but he had fallen in love with Kayla in a very different way.

He knew why he loved her. She was pretty, but also smart and kind. They liked the same things, and he enjoyed spending time with her. Even though he knew this, he couldn't bring himself to tell her. Kayla had been hurt by Cal, and she wasn't over it; he could tell. She didn't date, or discuss the possibility of it. Dilan worried that if he, her platonic male friend, her safe friend, approached her, she would never trust him again. He didn't want to lose her or Kairi.

Dilan felt a tug atop his head. Kairi was pulling his hair.

"Up!" She demanded.

"Hey!" he pulled his hair out of her reach. "Watch it, that hurts."

She giggled and let go. Dilan sighed. What to do with her? It would probably be a few more hours before Kayla got a break, and Kairi's grandmother, Krista, was busy dealing with a bad flu outbreak. He had to find a way to get Kairi tired enough to take a nap, and fast.

After a moment, an idea hit him.

"Hey," he said slyly, "How would you like it if we… went into town?"

She stared at him, her eyes huge. Her trademark, toothy smile lit up her face. She nodded quickly.

"Okay, then."

With some effort (Kairi was getting big) Dilan scooped her up and plopped her atop his shoulders. She clapped and laughed.

"Horse!"

Dilan smiled.

"Come on, pardner. Let's head out."

And they were off.

ooo

Elaeus hadn't slept well that night. He tossed and turned. He tried to relax as best he could. But no matter what he did, he couldn't fall asleep. His mind was too active, too busy thinking about the day's events. Too busy worrying.

When he hadn't been able to stand it anymore, Elaeus gave up on sleeping in favor of a walk. Despite the night's chill, he decided to walk out to the arch in front of Rising Falls. That place had always inspired him. Maybe he would even get to see the sun rise. He knew from experience that seeing the sun rise above the falls, seeing the water sparkle in the dawn light, was something else.

Elaeus didn't bother to put a cloak on. He didn't take the lift either. He took the long way. Down the stairs from his room, out to the servants' door a few floors below and around the gravel path that led through the mountains, until he finally reached Rising Falls. All told, the walk only took about two hours, but he was panting by the end of it. It wasn't an easy hike. The mountain trail was steep. No wonder most people chose to use the lifts. But not Elaeus. He liked the walk.

He sat down beneath the arch. The moon was bright tonight, and it gave the old stone arch an eerie, otherworldly glow. Elaeus remembered his history lessons. The arch had been built long ago by the mysterious, unknown people that had once lived in Radiant Garden. No one knew why they had built the arch, for the ancient people of Radiant Garden had kept no records and vanished long ago. If the old kingdom of Hollow Bastion hadn't fallen, and Ansem hadn't led the people to this new land, no one would ever have known that the arch and the castle even existed. Some of the younger children told stories about the arch. They said that the ghosts of the ones who had built it still lurked there. But Elaeus didn't believe that. He liked the old, crumbling arch, and how after all these years, untold years, it still stood, proud and strong.

He sighed and bit his lip. He wished Ienzo was here. He wished he knew why his friend wouldn't talk to him. He felt a dull, aching loneliness well up inside of him.

'What is wrong with him?' he thought.

He couldn't figure it out. It had happened so fast. One day, Ienzo was normal, but on the next, it was as if he had suddenly changed. He hadn't picked up on it at first. After all, Ienzo had always been quiet, a bit odd. It was just how he was. But yesterday, when he had asked him if anything was wrong, Elaeus had finally figured it out. When Ienzo had given him that cold, hard, mistrustful look, he had figured it out. He had done something wrong, and Ienzo was angry with him.

'But what did I do?' he wondered.

Maybe Ienzo was angry that Elaeus was spending more time with the other apprentices. After all, he had been excited about turning eighteen, and he had left Ienzo behind a few times to go to bars. Maybe Ienzo felt left out.

Or maybe, after all these years, he and his friend were finally growing apart. After all, Ienzo was six years younger than he was. Neither of them had cared before, but maybe now Ienzo was ready to have friends his own age. Maybe Elaeus should do the same.

But Elaeus didn't think either theory was correct. No, he was worried that the real reason Ienzo was upset with him was something else entirely, something he didn't even like to consider. Elaeus was worried that maybe, somehow, Ienzo had never liked him to begin with.

Elaeus knew this theory was a little silly, but he couldn't get the idea out of his mind. He thought back on how he and Ienzo had first met, and he wondered. It had been five years ago. Ienzo had been seven and had only just arrived at the castle. He had been cold and quiet and difficult to approach, and he had severely unnerved the other apprentices. All but Elaeus, that is.

At that time, there were only three apprentices. Even, Dilan and Elaeus. Elaeus was thirteen when Ienzo arrived, making it his second year. Dilan and Even were much older than he was, and Elaeus had been lonely. Not only did he miss his family, he didn't feel that he was cut out to be a scientist. He was an awkward, overlarge boy, one who always seemed to do and say the wrong things. He couldn't mix chemicals, he couldn't focus on studying, he couldn't even file papers correctly. If there was something delicate, Elaeus was sure to break it. Elaeus was not stupid; he knew that. But others didn't. They would see he large size and his clumsiness, and immediately assume that he was a big, stupid oaf. Dilan, Even and Ansem were kind to him, but it was a kindness brought on by pity. They pitied the boy who couldn't do anything right.

So, when Elaeus had spotted young Ienzo in the library, he had seen a chance to make a friend. He had started to talk to the young boy. Ienzo hadn't acknowledged him at first, but eventually he had given in, and they had started spending time together. Elaeus was overjoyed. At last, he had a friend! His confidence had risen, and he grew cheerful. He was still not a good scientist, but he tried his hardest and didn't beat himself up over every mistake. With Ienzo's encouragement, he read more books, gained an interest in art and history and decided that, when he turned twenty-one and was allowed to leave Ansem's service, he would become a knight.

At the time, it had seemed that Ienzo was also happy to have a friend. He would only talk to Elaeus, and the two grew closer. But now Elaeus wondered if the friendship was really just one-sided. Was Ienzo just pretending to like him, just as Dilan, Even and Ansem had once done? Did he pity him? Elaeus couldn't stand to think about it. If that was the case, he had no friends. If he had no friends; his world would collapse.

Elaeus sat thinking like this for… he didn't know how long. All he did know was that he must have fallen asleep at some point, for his next memory was of waking up, stiff and cold, some time the next morning.

He sat up and, with a groan, stretched his sore and aching limbs. The rest had done him good, but doing it while sitting up against a stone arch hadn't. He looked up at the sun as he stretched his arms. It was nearly noon. He had really slept. He hoped no one was looking for him. Well, if what he thought about Ienzo was true, probably no one was. He sighed.

"Hey! Elaeus!"

Elaeus turned. The voice had come from far across the Great Maw, and echoed over and over again. He squinted, and spotted a lift coming towards the arch from the castle. There were two people on it. Elaeus recognized them right away, and smiled in spite of himself.

"Dilan! Kairi! Hi!"

He waved and the figures waved back. After a few minutes, the lift pulled into its stop, and Dilan and Kairi stepped off of it. Dilan stepped forward to greet Elaeus, and Kairi followed behind.

"Hey, there, Elaeus. Fancy seeing you here. What's up?"

Elaeus shrugged.

"Just doing some stretches. I came out here last night and fell asleep. I'm a little sore. How about you?'

Dilan nodded at Kairi.

"Babysitting. I'm taking this little devil to town. She won't nap."

Elaeus squinted at Kairi. She grinned.

"Hi, Elly!"

"Hi, there, Kairi. Are you causing your daddy trouble?"

"Elaeus," Dilan said evenly, "I'm not her dad."

Elaeus straightened up.

"Yeah. I know."

He grinned mischievously.

"But you'd like to be."

Dilan blushed scarlet. He shot a nervous look at Kairi.

"Not in front of her," he whispered nervously. "She has ears, you know."

Elaeus smiled at Dilan's nervousness. Practically the whole castle knew how Dilan felt about Kayla, except for Kayla herself, of course, but despite that, Dilan still tried to keep it quiet as much as he could. As Elaeus had expected, Dilan changed he subject.

"So, El, where's Ienzo today?" he asked casually. "Haven't seen him around."

Elaeus stiffened as he was reminded of his and Ienzo's estrangement. He shrugged.

"I don't know."

Dilan gave him a concerned look.

"You look a bit down, Elaeus," he said quietly, "are you and Ienzo… not getting along?"

Elaeus shrugged. He refused to meet Dilan's eyes.

"It's nothing. I don't want to talk about it."

Dilan's look was quizzical, but he didn't pursue the subject.

"Elaeus," he said gently. "Why don't you come to town with us? It might cheer you up."

Elaeus grunted in reply. Dilan walked over and gave him a swift pat on the back.

"Come on. It would do you good."

With a sigh, Elaeus nodded.

"Fine."

"Good! We'd better go, then. Come on, Kairi."

Kairi, who had been examining a cluster of flowers that had sprouted out of the rocks, looked up. Elaeus walked over.

"Let's go, Kairi."

She looked up, and nodded. To Elaeus's surprise, she stood and put her tiny hand in his.

"Go, Elly," she said.

Dilan laughed out loud.

"Well, look at that! Elaeus, you have a little friend. Maybe Kayla should ask _you_ to babysit!"

"Really?"

Kairi looked up at him. Elaeus felt his mood lighten a little. He smiled at the girl.

"Well, Is that true? Are we friends, Kairi?"

Kairi smiled broadly.

"Uh-huh!"

Now, both men laughed.

ooo

_That night, Xehanort dreamed._

_He floated in darkness once again, but this time, it was the darkness of the castle basement. He could feel himself moving through the tunnels underground, unable to see, but somehow able to know his way. An unexplainable thrill coursed through him. Something was about to happen._

_ He hit a fork in the path, and for the first time felt doubt. What was he moving towards? Was it good? Should he continue? The longer he was still, the thicker the blackness seemed to grow._

_ He decided to just go forward, just pick a path, any path, but his feet were glued to the floor. The loud, booming voice came again. It rang in his ears, and through his very being. Still, he could not understand it. He sank to the floor and covered his ears. It did no good. And all the while, the darkness closed in._

"Aah!"

With a yell, Xehanort jerked himself awake. Sweat poured from his skin and stood out cold on his forehead. He was breathing hard and fast. He curled his legs up to his chest and hid his face. He tried to even out his breaths.

They came raggedly at first, but soon his breathing calmed. He looked up at last, and flipped on the lamp next to his bed.

He was in his room, his new room, that is. Dilan and Braig had shown it to him as the final stop on their tour. Though it was only slightly larger than his room in the infirmary, Xehanort liked it. The room contained a wooden desk, a wardrobe, a bed with a finely carved frame, and a floor-length window with a balcony. The walls were painted dark blue. Xehanort had felt at home immediately.

But now… now the room felt threatening, as if something could be lurking behind ever piece of furniture. The walls reminded him of the blackness in his dream, and he didn't think he would sleep again that night.

A spot of movement caught his eye. The window! It was open! Xehanort's head snapped in that direction.

It was only the curtain, rustling in the cool night breeze.

Xehanort lay back in his bed. He was being ridiculous, ridiculous and paranoid. Nothing was coming to get him. There was nothing to be afraid of. He was safe inside the castle.

"My dreams aren't real," he whispered, "My dreams aren't real."

With this thought, he curled up and slept. He did not dream again that night.


End file.
